Friday, September 24, 2010

Restroom Lunch

The only thing I knew about the guy was that his online name was SexInPublic, that he had a couple of photos showing a beefy, hairy body and a nice mouth fringed with fur, and that judging by his profile, we both liked to cruise the same places. Would love to run into you at the mall restroom, he emailed me out of the blue earlier this week, naming the mall where I do most of my hooking up when I’m in that kind of mood. Damn nice cock—bet you deliver a hell of a load, too.

It does. Want to suck it tomorrow at 11? I wrote him back. Upstairs or down?

Upstairs, he decided. Can’t wait to wrap my lips and throat around that dick of yours.

Short, simple, and to the point, was the correspondence. If only it were all that easy. There was something direct and honest about it, too—at least to the point that I didn’t feel the need to doubt that he’d show. I left my house twenty minutes early, drove several miles north to the mall, parked outside, and walked in. When I pushed open the men’s room door in the quiet corner behind the coffee shop, it was precisely eleven o’clock.

And he was waiting in the handicapped stall next to the one I chose. When I dropped my shorts and looked beneath the partition, I saw a pair of long, shiny square-tipped leather shoes protruding from a pair of frayed designer jeans. On the tiles I saw a shadow lurch forward, as if the guy next to me were bending over and down.

I tapped my left foot. Immediately in response he tapped his own toe, several times, up and down, moving it closer to mine. I leaned down and looked under the partition and saw a man’s head craning down to do the same; I could tell his hair was short and dark. Our eyes met briefly, but when someone invaded the quiet sanctity of the men’s room from outside, we both sat up and resumed more normal postures.

While the intruder pissed in a urinal, I stroked myself hard while looking around the back of the partition, using the shiny marble tiles as a reflective mirror. My buddy was also stroking himself, I judged by his arm motions. I watched as he removed his eyeglasses and set them on the box holding rolls of toilet paper. The guy at the urinal stepped back, triggering the auto-flush. We listened as he washed and dried his hands.

The moment the room was clear again, the guy next to me was on all fours. I could tell he wore a crisply-pressed cotton baby blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up; an expensive gold watch adorned his furry right wrist. I knelt down on the tiles, my dick stiffening as his left hand grabbed for my dick. His wedding ring was thick, gold, and sported a large stone in its flat face.

I suspected that, when he yanked my dick under the stall and stuffed it in his mouth, he wasn’t thinking about his pretty wife.

My left hand gripped the toilet seat, and my right the top of the roll dispenser as I pivoted my knees beneath the partition. The cold metal pressed into the top of my pelvis as he pulled as much of me as possible underneath, gobbling down on my dick. I was ready to withdraw, silently and swiftly, in the case of another intruder, but at the same time, he had total and complete access to the parts he wanted so badly.

And he went to town on them, too. I could feel slobber cascading down my shaved nuts and tickling the underside of my asshole before dripping on the floor. He would deep-throat my meat like a starving man and try not to gag on my length, then surface for air and gasp before going down again faster than a drowning man with bricks in his pockets. “Oh yeah,” I grunted, as he did all the right stuff to my dick.

Someone came in. With practiced calm I levered my hips out and up, and then settled onto the toilet seat. My friend did the same, lifting himself from his huddled position on the floor without any sound more than a few shifting clothes. We both waited for the new intruder to leave; I put some more spit on my dick and ran my fist up and down the shaft while the guy peed, knowing that my buddy was watching me through the crack behind the partition.

When the second intruder left, my buddy was back on the floor again, not even bothering to keep his pristine shirt off the grubby tiles. He stuck his head all the way beneath the partition and looked up at me. I could see now that he was a good-looking man—perhaps older than he advertised in his profile, but an attractive guy nonetheless. “That’s the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen,” he whispered at me. His hand reached out to run his hands over my hairy legs.

I just nodded. I had the heels of my sneakers together, with my camo shorts bunched around them. My knees were spread as far as they’d go, and I double-fisted my big dick while he watched. I used all the same techniques I employ during my cam shows—using my full fist at different angles, grabbing my nuts with one hand and pulling them as far as they’d go, and pursing my lips like I was close to orgasm—which I honestly was, showing off. “I want it in my ass,” he said.

“Now?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Next time,” he promised. I just grunted and nodded, and then stuffed the tip of my right index finger into my slit. I withdrew a heavy bead of precum that left a long, sticky tail as I pulled it away and shoved it in my mouth.

I thought he was about to faint when he saw that. “Fuck,” he said. “I’ve gotta come.”

I leaned forward and offered my left hand. Immediately he straightened up and thrust his knees beneath the partition. With my right hand still slicking my own dick, I spat into my left and got his little member wet and hard. Then I jacked at it.

It didn’t take long. He was groaning almost immediately, and then thrusting his hips against my hand shortly thereafter. The partition vibrated with every shove; my own stall door came unlocked and drifted open to bang against my knee, but I didn’t bother to close it. We were still quietly undisturbed.

When he came, it was with a violent grunt. Little droplets of semen puddled in my hand and then onto the floor underneath. I waited until his spasms subsided, then grabbed a wad of toilet paper so that I could clean off first my hands and then the floor itself. Then I did a quick possessions check—phone, keys, wallet—and left the stall so I could wash my hands.

I saw him walking to his own car as I was pulling out of the parking lot. The man was driving a BMW parked next to mine. Out in the wild he looked like any other upper-middle-class suburbanite dad hitting the mall for a quick shopping trip.

No one save me would’ve guessed him to have been on all fours, only moments before, pants around his ankles and ass high in the air as he’d nursed some stranger’s big dick in his mouth on a dirty restroom floor. I’m sure that’s just the way he wanted it.

12 comments:

  1. You have a hot cock and this session you just told us about is freaking amazing. Did you shoot your load into his mouth?

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  2. Raw,

    Thanks! I didn't shoot at all. I'm still carrying that load, in fact.

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  3. God, I want that load! I hope you get to fuck him under that partition next time. :)

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  4. Hot! I can just imagine the view he had as he was staring up at that amazing cock of yours.

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  5. Luv2suk,

    I wish he'd had his phone camera on for that!

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  6. Of my handful of encounters with guys, the closest thing I have done in a public restroom was show my dick to another guy. Each time I go into a restroom at a mall or department store, I can't help but wonder about the logistics of it all. Your story helps me get part of that, and in such a hot way!.

    Often though, as I stand at the urinal taking a leak, half hoping nobody else enters so I can pee in private and half wishing a forward guy would come in and stand next me and ask if he can touch. But mostly, I look around and all I can think about is how dirty, more like filthy the restrooms are at Wal Mart. Yikes!

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  7. JFBreak,

    One of the things I keep meaning to do is a series of 'Cruising 101' articles--which actually I started a while back, with some internet tips. But in one of them I wanted to go over the etiquette, procedures, courtesies, and dangers of restroom sex.

    If there was any interest, of course.

    And this was no Wal-Mart. Ick.

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  8. If there is no other interest from your readers, you can e-mail it to me directly!

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  9. Did you ever post cursing 101 I would love to read it. It is one of my favorite things to do !!

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  10. Sykery,

    I seem to have done two entries with the Cruising 101 tag so far:

    Bottoms to Tops
    Cyber-Bravery

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  11. I've always heard about this kind of cruising but never done it. It's now on my to do list. And I'll be checking the 2 posts you mention. Any others at this time?
    BTW, Hawt Da-yum! This story feels a bit... sleazy? nasty? But, totally horn-dog man fun!
    JPinPDX

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